


Trail of Tears

by Cherry101



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: ALL THE ANGST, Angst, Angst with an angstier ending, Break Up, It's good I promise, M/M, Minor Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Post-Break Up, Sorry Not Sorry, Terminal Illnesses, just sad, sticky notes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2017-07-13
Packaged: 2018-12-01 12:45:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11486661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cherry101/pseuds/Cherry101
Summary: When he runs, he escapes his own thoughts.It’s nice, Otabek thinks, as he jogs, alone, in the warm Almaty air. The humidity hangs over him like a cloud, but he perseveres, his body cutting through the thick fog like a knife.In the heavy oppression of a missing presence, his house is too lonely, too quiet. He used to be accustomed to such a state, but now, after spending months with a whirlwind of a person, it’s overbearing - much like the heaviness of the humidity in the air.Sometimes - and only sometimes - Otabek wonders if he really should’ve left. Yuri wasn’t in a good state - he had been in tears and angry, never a good combination - but he knows that their relationship wasn’t going to last. It was a ticking time bomb, the explosion was only inevitable.





	Trail of Tears

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Phayte](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phayte/gifts), [thesameoldfairytale](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesameoldfairytale/gifts), [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> Ha... Hahaha... I'm sorry for this.
> 
> ...not really.
> 
> The breakup is inspired by one of Phayte's angst drabbles, so go yell at her too, not just me. 
> 
> ...Get ready 
> 
> And don't be afraid to yell at me in the comments!
> 
> Enjoy~

When he runs, he escapes his own thoughts. 

 

It’s nice, Otabek thinks, as he jogs, alone, in the warm Almaty air. The humidity hangs over him like a cloud, but he perseveres, his body cutting through the thick fog like a knife.

 

In the heavy oppression of a missing presence, his house is too lonely, too quiet. He used to be accustomed to such a state, but now, after spending months with a whirlwind of a person, it’s overbearing - much like the heaviness of the humidity in the air. 

 

Sometimes - and only sometimes - Otabek wonders if he really should’ve left. Yuri wasn’t in a good state - he had been in tears and angry, never a good combination - but he knows that their relationship wasn’t going to last. It was a ticking time bomb, the explosion was only inevitable.

 

Still…

 

_ I thought the purpose of this run was to stop thinking,  _ He thinks dryly, shaking his head as he slows his pace. At this point, he’s nearly back to his apartment - he really doesn’t want to go back - and he’s barely able to clear his mind before he’s at the front door.

 

He takes a breath, and walks into his apartment.

 

His phone rings. 

 

The timing is too perfect. Whoever is calling knows his schedule - he runs at the same time every day - and there's only one person who knows his schedule. 

 

The biggest question is this - why is Yuri calling him now? It's been a month since the big breakup, and Yuri hadn't so much as messaged him since. Otabek doesn't understand why he would call now.

 

He ignores it.

 

If… if Yuri really wanted to talk to him, he would've  _ done it  _ already. 

 

...That's what he wants to believe, at least.

 

Otabek lets his phone be, and he decides to take a shower instead. The sweltering heat always leaves him sweaty, and he wonders if it's really healthy to be showering daily.

 

Oh well.

 

His phone starts to ring again, but Otabek pays it no mind - instead choosing to grab his actual clothes and walk to the shower.

 

He's in there for a good ten minutes, and, when he walks out…

 

...his phone is  _ still  _ ringing.

 

With a sigh, Otabek wonders if this is actually how he ended up moving to St. Petersburg - Yuri bugging him and bugging him about it until he just gave in - but if so, Yuri knows how to get him to respond.

 

...He doesn't  _ want  _ to answer, but Yuri’s stubborn, and he won't stop until Otabek picks up the phone.

 

So he crosses the living room to where his phone is plugged in, charging, and finally picks it up, answering.

 

“What on Earth do you want?” He snaps immediately, because Yuri’s been calling for a good 15 minutes now, and he has the right to be at least a little angry.

 

Yuri coughs into the microphone, and his voice sounds hoarse. He doesn't say anything straight away - it's annoying - but when he does, it's with a raspy voice.

 

“You  _ ass.  _ I know you heard me call the first time.”

 

It's such a  _ Yuri  _ statement, and Otabek laughs, “Just because you call doesn't mean I have the obligation to answer. You know this. You also know I only answered this time because I need to change your ringtone.” 

 

“Go ahead and change it then.” Yuri snarls, then coughs again. If Otabek weren't so angry, he would be concerned.

 

“What did you want to say so badly that you've been calling me for 15 minutes to say it?” Otabek asks, “Because if you don't say it soon, I'm going to hang up.”

 

Yuri takes a shaky breath that doesn't go unnoticed, before finally saying, “When the time is right, you'll find the first word where we first met, when I was ten and you were 13. Remember that.” 

 

Before Otabek can ask what on Earth that means, Yuri hangs up. 

 

He's left staring at his phone blankly. It made no sense. 

 

He makes a mistake - he shrugs it off, and sets his phone aside.

 

He gets his next call two days later, from Viktor.

 

Viktor rarely ever calls - he left a long voicemail right after the breakup ranting about how “Otabek betrayed his trust" and that “he's going to slit Otabek's throat one of these days” and it's strange to get a phone call from him nowadays.

 

Unlike with Yuri, Otabek picks up immediately, and the first thing he hears is sniffles.

 

“Yes, Viktor?” He asks, towelling off his recently showered hair.

 

Viktor takes a bit breath - that much Otabek can hear - before speaking.

 

“I don't know if you care, but, but…” Viktor sniffs again, and it's suddenly so obvious that he's crying.

 

“Yuri - your Yuri, our Yurio - he… he passed away, today.” 

 

It's funny, how much impact a single sentence has on him.

 

“What?” It's… it's only been a month since they last saw each other, only two days since they've spoken. Viktor, he… he's obviously trying to make Otabek upset, upset for breaking up with Yuri. That's has to be it. 

 

His world tilts.

 

Viktor continues to speak.

 

“He… only a couple days after you left Russia, he was diagnosed with lung cancer. It… I don't know how you didn't notice it, it was so obvious after we found out - he kept coughing and complaining about a pain in his chest at the rink, but we never bothered to look into it,” Viktor pauses to take a shaky breath, “We all thought it was just allergies.”

 

Otabek remembers that now. He remembers Yuri’s persistent cough and chest pains - Yuri himself had brushed it off as springtime allergies, they never bothered to have it checked out.

 

“But, a couple days after you left, he collapsed on the ice in the middle of his program. I wasn't there, but Yuuri was, and… Yuuri told me that Yurio couldn't breathe. He was gasping for breath, but he couldn't get any air. We took him to the hospital then - that's when he was diagnosed with lung cancer. It… it was a rare type, too - hereditary, got it from his father. The chemotherapy didn't work, and, and…” Viktor is obviously crying again.

 

Otabek feels a couple of tears slip down his cheek. Tears, because Yuri apparently was dying when he called, and Otabek was such an  _ ass  _ to him and  _ why didn't he say anything? _

 

“The funeral is in two days. He… he wanted you to be there, so please come.” Viktor ends the call on that note.

 

Otabek throws his phone across the room and screams into a pillow. 

 

It isn't fair.

 

He… he still  _ loves  _ Yuri, even though they failed as a couple.

 

Loved. Loved Yuri.

 

Two days pass in a blur. Otabek isn't sure if he cries any more after the initial shock of the news - he feels stiff, lifeless, a puppet with no master. 

 

He makes it to Moscow somehow, where the funeral takes place. A grave placed beside his long-passed grandfather. 

 

Yuri’s funeral is open casket.

 

Otabek doesn't remember much of the flight up to Moscow, or the funeral itself. He remembers, though, walking up the aisle to say a final goodbye to the man he once loved -  _ still loves. _

 

“I'm sorry.” He ends up whispering to Yuri’s pale and cold face. His cheeks are dusted in a pale pink blush, but he still looks strange, with no hair due to chemotherapy. 

 

Otabek caresses Yuri’s cheek gently, screwing his eyes closed to ease the burning, before turning back. 

 

As he walks back to his seat, Yuuri stops him. The man’s eyes are swollen and red, but he manages a small smile as he passes a slip of paper to Otabek.

 

“Yuri wrote this for you.” The Japanese man explains with a soft voice, “I don't know what's inside. He wrote it after he called.” 

 

Otabek thanks him, and the paper is shoved into a pocket inside the loose-fitted suit.

 

It's only later, when he's sitting on the bed inside the hotel room he checked out for the night, that he opens the letter and reads it.

 

_ Dear  _ _ Beka  _ _ Otabek; _

 

_ When you read this, I'll be dead. There's no avoiding it. If your eyes are on this paper, it means the cancer I inherited from my absent father somehow has taken my life. And that's okay. _

 

_ I have something I need to tell you. Something you need to see. But… I'm not going to make this easy for you. You don't deserve that. So I'm going to leave behind a puzzle. Each location you go to reveals another piece of the puzzle. By the end, you'll know everything.  _

 

_ Do you remember what I told you on the phone? I hope so. It was hard leaving clues, considering I was bedridden. I would hate to have done all that for nothing. _

 

_...I don't know how to end this. Um… yeah. Good luck. _

 

_ With love  _ _ Sincerely, _

 

_ Yuri _

 

The place where they first met, ten years ago. That’s what Yuri said, four days ago on the phone. Otabek remembers it making no sense at the time. 

 

It makes sense now.

 

Where they first met… at Lilia’s ballet studio, in St. Petersburg. 

 

It's probably wrong, to embark on this quest, but Otabek needs to know what Yuri left for him. He needs to.

 

He changes his flight to St. Petersburg. 

 

Within 24 hours, he stands outside of Lilia’s ballet studio. 

 

It's silly - the woman isn't even there, she's still in Moscow after the funeral - but Otabek has a key. It was Yuri’s spare key to the studio - Lilia gave him two, so he could practice whenever he wanted to - and Otabek uses it to let himself inside. 

 

He has no idea what he's looking for.

 

He walks around the abandoned rooms, scanning for… anything. Another piece of paper? Something flashy? He doesn't know.

 

In the end, it's so obvious - a piece of paper flying in the air-conditioned room, taped to the barre.

 

Otabek carefully catches the paper, gently untaping it from the barre before reading the messy handwriting. 

 

_ Congratulations, you found the first note. I'm assuming it's you, Otabek.  _

 

_ Okay. First “clue” or whatever - I never mean what I say when I'm angry. I didn't actually expect you to leave.  _

 

_ There. I said it. Wrote it. Whatever.  _

 

_ Next hint - and I'll be nice and let you know that these locations are all in St. Petersburg, I'm not going to make you spend money on a flight - the location of our first date.  _

 

The letter cut off abruptly, and Otabek stares down at the words.

 

_ I didn't actually expect you to leave. _

 

...What  _ did  _ he expect then? 

 

It doesn't make any sense, but Otabek has a feeling that it will, soon.

 

Their first date…

 

Was two years ago, when they first started dating(obviously). It was Yuri’s eighteenth birthday, and Otabek was in St. Petersburg for the occasion. He took him…

 

_ Right. _

 

The little cafe is right outside the ballet studio. With the paper clenched in his hand, he locks the studio back up, and starts walking towards the building.

 

The cafe looks the same as it did two years ago. It's smaller, but the pirozhki they serve are amazing.

 

According to Yuri, that is.

 

The clue Yuri left behind isn't that hard to spot this time. Pinned against the wall just inside the entrance, Otabek easily grabs it. 

 

It probably looks strange to the customers.

 

Otabek doesn't care.

 

He unfolds the note with shaking hands. The realization that this - whatever it is Yuri had to say before he died - could change everything hits him hard, even before he actually reads the note.

 

_ Otabek _

 

_ Again, congrats for finding this. It was the hardest to secure, and therefore the easiest for you to find, probably.  _

 

_ So here it is. _

 

_...If I hadn't of gotten cancer, I would've reached out to you. I was planning on letting us both calm down.  _

 

_ That probably doesn't sound like it's too bad. Oh well. _

 

_ With love; _

 

_ Yuri. _

 

With love.

 

**_With love._ **

 

It hurts. It hurts, because knowing that they both still had feelings for each other but never acted… 

 

Otabek rubs at his eyes.

 

There is no clue in the note, despite the fact that the message is still obviously incomplete. It's just another thing that doesn't make any sense whatsoever.

 

He wonders, briefly, if Yuri had  _ left  _ before being able to finish the clue set.

 

The thought sends a flare of grief resonating in his chest, and hell, it  _ still hurts so  _ **_badly._ **

 

Otabek swallows, and he turns to leave…

 

...only to find another note flapping against the door, something he so obviously missed walking in.

 

He grabs it after taking a few strides, pulling the paper off the door and unfolding it.

 

His heart pounds.

 

_ Otabek. _

 

_ As I'm writing this, I've realized that I'm nearly out of places to hide notes for you. Not that I'm actually hiding them myself, of course. _

 

_ So… this one ties into the last.  _

 

_ The reason I didn't reach out to you after I got diagnosed, and why I didn't tell you… I didn't want you to get hurt. I wanted you to be angry, so that my inevitable death wouldn't hurt you as much. _

 

_...I almost didn't tell you that. I know you, Beka. _

 

_ Anyways, the next clue - my second home. _

 

_ Love, _

 

_ Yuri. _

 

**_...Fuck._ **

 

It.  _ Hurts. _

 

Tears drip freely down his cheeks, but he doesn't notice. The droplets of water fall onto the paper, smearing across the nearly empty page, blurring the lead writing.

 

Otabek allows his eyes to fall close, his shoulders shaking as he witholds the full force of his sobs. To everybody in the cafe, he probably is making such a huge scene, but he doesn't care, because there is a real, gaping wound in his heart and it  _ hurts so bad. _

 

After a few minutes of just standing there, crushing the paper in an iron grip while attempting to regain his self control, Otabek moves. He walks out of the cafe, ignoring the remarks that follow him out, and stops, just outside.

 

The bitterly cold wind rubs against his cheeks and nose, making his eyes burn. 

 

_ My second home. _

 

Assuming his  _ first  _ home is the apartment they shared, once upon a time, Otabek figures the only place that can really qualify as a second home… Is Viktor and Yuuri's place. 

 

The house the married couple share is a ten minute bus ride away, but Otabek gets there. They aren't home - probably still in Moscow - but, as he's come to expect, there is a note attached to the front door, addressed to him in Yuri’s messy handwriting.

 

He takes the note.

 

Unlike the last times, his name is not addressed in the note. There isn't a need, when his name is printed in big letters on the outside.

 

...at this point, Otabek is near terrified at what Yuri's going to reveal.

 

_ This is the second to last clue. I've ran out of places in St. Petersburg. That's alright, though. _

 

_...alright. Here goes nothing. _

 

_ I loved you from the day we met in Barcelona. Yes, I am aware at how stupid and cliche that sounds. This is coming from me, after all. I didn't know what my feelings were, but I do know I don't think I could've ever loved anybody else.  _

 

_ Alright… the last note is at the last place we saw each other face to face. _

 

_ Love, _

 

_ Yura. _

 

He signed the note with Yura that time.

 

Otabek’s pretty sure he is visibly shaking. Love is  _ such  _ a strong word, and Yuri loved him for that long?

 

_ Even from the grave, he knows how to surprise me. _

 

It's a chilling thought.

 

Otabek shakes his head. At this point, he's so desperate for the last piece - whatever it is that Yuri needed to say. He physically  _ needs  _ it.

 

The place where they last saw each other face to face.

 

_ The apartment. _

 

The place where, in a fit of rage, he had stormed out, carrying a bag with the things he needed. The place he had left behind - buying a one way ticket to Almaty - without ever looking back.

 

The apartment that was only a five minute walk from the Kastuki-Nikiforov place.

 

The five minute walk drags for what seems like an eternity. Icy wind nips at his bare skin, but he barely feels it.

 

After the walk of torture, Otabek stands in front of the empty apartment. 

 

There's a note on the door.

 

Otabek takes it.

 

_ Dear Otabek,  _ it reads, and the handwriting isn't Yuri’s.

 

_ As Yuri was in the hospital, we helped him with this part. He was very persistent in the details, you see. _

 

_ He's left something for you to read in the bedroom. There's more directions there. _

 

_ The whole point of this is to help you realize what you lost. I'm going to be blunt. He was  _ **_so_ ** _ heartbroken when you actually left, I hope this hurts you as much as you hurt him. _

 

_ That's all I need to say.  _

 

_ Viktor _

 

Viktor got one thing correct - Otabek’s already broken heart has been torn to pieces, aching, raw, and bleeding in his chest. 

 

He almost doesn't want to go in.

 

But he does. He has to. He has to know what it is Yuri has left behind. 

 

The sound of the door opening echoes throughout the silent building. Everything is as he left it - the messy array of pillows and blankets on the couch, the book lying open on the coffee table. The dishes scattered amongst the kitchen.

 

That isn't what he focuses on though.

 

There's a small trail of neon yellow sticky notes, lighting a path all the way to the bedroom.

 

The bedroom door is ajar by a crack, just enough to show a single sticky note on the slightly visibly bedframe.

 

Otabek walks through the living room in a daze, pushing the bedroom door open and looking around.

 

On the bed lay the final piece of paper. 

 

It only took a few steps to reach the bed, but Otabek finds himself lost in the memories of sweaty summer nights, spent tangled in the sheets as they lost themselves in guilty pleasure. 

 

Sleeping curled up side by side, relishing in each other's presence, at the knowledge that they were  _ there,  _ **_together._ **

 

_ When did that end? When did we get tired of each other? _

 

With shaking, trembling hands, Otabek picks up the final slip of paper.

 

_ Beka. _

 

_ I know how painful this is for you. You’re wondering where things went wrong, wondering how we lost the relationship we had. Trust me, I feel the same. _

 

_ Because the truth is so, so simple. I loved you. I love you. I'll always love you. There won't ever be anyone else - and not just because I'm dying. I know I'm dying.  _

 

_ Even as I'm writing this, two hours after our phone call, my hands are shaking so badly every word takes a minute to write. Sometimes, I start coughing, and I can't stop for hours. More often than not, there's blood.  _

 

_ Chemotherapy didn't work. The only thing it did was make me lose my hair, which was so awful. I suppose it's the least of all evils though.  _

 

_ If you saw me now… I'm a mess. Ha. _

 

_ I leave you with one final thing. It's not something I'm going to put to words. It would've been less painful for you, yes, but you know me. I'm not a nice person.  _

 

_ My final goodbye; _

 

_ I love you _

 

_ Yuri _

 

At this point, the tears steadily falling down his face feel normal. He's still shaking, to the point he can barely read the small script underneath Yuri’s name, but he finally managed to make out a few words.

 

_ Check my top drawer. _

 

Otabek swallows thickly. 

 

Yuri’s dresser has been left abandoned, exactly as they left it. Yuri’s top drawer doesn't hold clothes - but rather objects, his personal belongings that Otabek knows not to mess with.

 

Until now, that is.

 

With a final deep breath, he takes a step forward and opens the drawer.

 

Everything has been cleared out - everything, except for a small black box, sitting dead center inside the drawer.

 

Otabek picks up the box. He knows what it is. He knows, but he can't stop himself from opening it anyways.

 

Inside sits a silver ring, a single emerald glittering from its position atop the band. 

 

_ He was going to propose to me. _

 

The tears fall so quickly, and Otabek collapses on the ground, his knees giving in as he crumples, his shoulders shaking.

 

He wishes desperately Yuri could be there, to place a comforting hand on his shoulder, to hug him tightly and never let  _ go. _

 

But Yuri isn't there.

 

He never will be. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> *Edit* I did not say this before, but I would like to let y'all know that I had a friend peering over my shoulder as I wrote this who kept encouraging me to end it at the last italicized sentence. I did not, in fact, end it there. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed the pain! I know it hurt me to write~


End file.
